


They Weren't You

by ScribbledGhost



Category: Bloodsucking Bastards (2015)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Max and reader being a couple of assholes, Murder, Oral Sex, Other, Penetrative Sex, Pining, smut that i tried very hard to make gender neutral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29907501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbledGhost/pseuds/ScribbledGhost
Summary: Of course Max loves you. As a friend. Just as a friend. Until one fateful night when a date you have doesn't go to plan.A Secret Santa fic for max--phillips on Tumblr
Relationships: Max Phillips/Reader, Max Phillips/You
Kudos: 5





	They Weren't You

Max wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed to get himself into this mess. And what made matters worse is that the only person he trusted enough to discuss his little… _issue_ with was the exact person who had caused it in the first place.

It wouldn’t have been a misstatement to say that you and Max had history together. You’d known each other since your college days, both having been in some of the same general education courses together over your time there. Neither of you had been particularly excited about the subjects at hand, instead choosing to goof off in class and during your free time, only to frantically copy each other’s homework at the last minute once you or Max had managed to cheat your way to finding the answers. Not to mention the sheer amount of trouble the two of you would get into while making life nothing short of hell for Evan. Even _you_ had to admit that a man can only handle having his underwear hung on the outside balcony of the dorms for all to see so many times before it gets old.

Of course, once Max had gone away to Romania, you’d still stayed in touch somehow. You’d been his only real lifeline back to his old life, and you’d been all too eager to bitch and complain about Evan in commiseration with Max. He’d even confided in you when he’d gotten turned, though it had taken some time for him to convince you that he wasn’t playing some elaborate prank on you from a thousand miles away. You’d been there during those first hunger pains, the first crisis of conscience after his feeds, and during the time it took to truly figure out how to live with his new… condition. Over time, once he’d come back to the States and had secured a job, you were delighted to find out that he was hired into the same building as you were currently working. Granted, he’d also be working alongside Evan, but to the two of you that just gave you both all the more joke fodder between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d heard Evan make some wisecrack about how “at least _now_ those two assholes don’t have access to my boxers”.

Max talked to you often, a true testament to the odd bond you’d formed back during your school days. Max wasn’t exactly a man with a ton of friends; his work persona often repelling any would-be platonic formations from the office. But you were still there, still around, and these days Max found himself thinking about that fact a little more often than he’d like to admit.

It was one simple afternoon that you’d come into his office with an excited look on your face, proclaiming to Max that you had a date that night. Max struggled to keep his emotions in check, to keep himself from frowning in your presence or alerting you to how his heart had sunk into his stomach when you’d told him. Instead, he’d put on his best Customer Service Smile and had wished you well, only letting his true feelings on the matter shine through once you were out of sight and his office door was closed.

He’d gone home that night late, too engrossed in his work to pay the clock any mind. At least, that was his objective. No, instead he’d found himself glancing at it every few minutes, noting how surely by then you would have met your date. He let his mind stray from the paperwork, wondering if you were having a good time, if they were kind and intelligent and witty like you deserved someone to be.

Of course, too long on this train of thought would result in Max shaking his head, chastising himself for thinking such things. He told himself time and time again that he thought of you as a sibling. That it was only natural for him to be protective over you. It had nothing to do with any potential romantic feelings. Absolutely not.

He found himself missing the days when he was physically capable of getting blackout drunk whenever he wanted.

The next day, Max sent you a text requesting your presence in his office once more. You hadn’t answered, but soon enough your footsteps could be heard outside the door before you let yourself in as you had so many times before.

“Well hey there, sugarplum,” Max cooed at you as you entered his office, an infuriatingly faux-saccharine tone lacing his words as he smiled at you.

“Max, had it not been for the laws of this land-”

“You would have slaughtered me for that pet name,” he finished for you with a non-committal wave of his hand, “yes, yes, I know, I know. Now, come in and sit down. You gotta let me know how this date went last night.”

Max noticed how you sighed as you walked in, closing his office door behind you as you flopped yourself into a chair on the other side of his desk. His brows furrowed in concern, but he thought it best to let you make the first move.

“Well, truth be told, it didn’t really… _go_ at all,” you said, your voice so uncharacteristically small that Max found himself struggling to maintain his typical stoic composure, “at first I thought they’d stood me up. But then, like, an hour after we were supposed to meet, they sent me a text. Something along the lines of them admitting that they only asked me on a date as a bet from their friends or something like that. I don’t know, I just… it wasn’t good.”

The office fell silent for a moment, Max only barely containing his anger. How _dare_ they?

“What’s their name?” he eventually asked, his voice calm and even.

“Hm? What do you mean, ‘what’s their name’?” you asked, one of your brows quirking in response.

“I said,” Max repeated lowly, leaning in closer to you, “What. Is. Their. Name.”

“Max, I am _not_ going to be an accomplice to murder,” you said, a mirthless laugh leaving your lips.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just find out on my own,” he said, his tone betraying how serious he found the matter, “but I _will_ find out. And it’s not murder. Just a… teaching opportunity.”

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair, apparently thinking for a few moments before you sighed and gave Max the person’s name. Max’s typical, cheery demeanor returned only moments later. He’d gotten the information he wanted.

Max located the person in question later on that same evening. The weather was chilly, the nights growing longer, and it didn’t take him long to yank the offending party into an unlit side street before pushing them up against the wall. He didn’t even waste time on pleasantries like discussing the ramifications of their actions the previous evening. He felt like words would be wasted on the situation, anyway. All that mattered to him was his growling stomach and flaring temper, his mind clouded with righteous indignation on your behalf.

Teaching opportunity, indeed. It’d been a while since he’d had a decent meal.

Max was continually grateful that he was a clean eater during times like these. It made for much less fuss to try and cover things up after he was finished, and it was far easier to dispose of his… leftovers without any kind of mess to connect him to anything. As he walked down the sparsely-populated street, he found himself wondering if you were still awake and at home. According to his watch it was only 9pm, surely you wouldn’t have turned in just yet. Even if you had, a loud enough knock on your door would be more than enough to wake you. Either that or the sound of him using the spare key you’d given him years ago would. Either way, he continued walking in the direction of your home, knowing that he needed to see you. The adrenaline in his veins from a fresh feeding always made him feel a certain way, and he needed to be in your space.

You were his friend. His best friend. Hell, you were his _only_ friend, the more that he thought about it. You were the only one who’d bothered to stick around. The only one he could talk to about the seedier parts of his eternal existence. The only one he _wanted_ to talk to about those sorts of things. He thought about you every day. He loved you.

As a friend.

Because that’s what you were. Friends. That’s what he felt towards you. Platonic love. Friendship. He didn’t think about who exactly he was trying to convince with that line of reasoning.

When he knocked on your front door, Max found himself breathing a sigh of relief as he heard your footsteps rustling around on the other side. As you unlocked the door and opened it, Max plastered his typical pleasant smile on his face, and when you questioned as to why he was at your door at this hour, he only offered a response that told you he was just in the neighborhood and figured he’d see if you wanted to hang out. Graciously, you’d agreed, and had invited him in.

“Just figured I’d drop by and see how you were holding up,” Max said, sitting next to you on the couch, “you seemed upset when you left today.”

“Well… of course I was upset,” you sighed, leaning your head back. If you noticed how Max subconsciously licked his lips at the sight of your exposed throat, you didn’t mention it. “I was excited to meet this person, excited to… maybe start something good. And it all turns out to not be real? It sucks, y’know?”

Max nodded and forced his gaze away from you, tilting his head back to mirror your position.

“Yeah,” he said, “I get it.”

“You killed them, didn’t you?”

The question stretched into the silence between you two, and Max sighed, knowing better than to lie. You’d know better. You always had.

“Yeah,” he said. “I did.”

He offered no apology as he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. He saw you nod, taking a deep breath as you processed what he’d just confessed to. Just as Max was getting ready to open his mouth to hopefully change the conversation to something lighter, you leaned over, placing a hand on his cheek as you turned his face to yours…

And kissed him.

Max let out a surprised grunt before reciprocating, closing his eyes as he savored the action. Part of him wanted to pull away, wanted to ask that you really think about what you were doing and why. He thought about just getting up and going home, leaving you to process your hurt from your failed date in your own way. But then you shifted your position, tossing one of your legs across his lap to straddle his waist as you slid your tongue along his bottom lip, and all other thoughts left his mind except for one:

_Fuck it_.

Max was done lying to himself. He was done pretending that he only saw you as his one and only friend, done pretending that he didn’t think about this exact scenario far more often than he would ever admit out loud. If you really wanted to have him as a rebound, he’d let you. Max shifted his position, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss as you’d requested. Your hands moved from where they’d been cradling his face to slide back and tangle in his hair, gripping him tightly to pull him closer to you. His own hands found your hips, taking care to mind his own strength as he gripped your flesh to anchor you to him as your tongue slid against his. As Max tasted his way into your mouth, he couldn’t help but feel his length twitch at the idea of tasting you in… _other_ ways as well.

“Truth be told, I think I’m glad that date didn’t go well. I don’t… I don’t think I even really wanted to be with them,” you sighed as Max broke away from you to kiss his way down the front of your throat.

“Mm, and why’s that?” he asked, his lips reaching your collarbone as he gently scraped his teeth over your skin as you shivered.

“They weren’t you.”

_What?_ Max stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat as he pulled away slightly to look up at you. Surely you couldn’t be serious. Why would you want _him_ of all people?

“…What did you say?” he asked, his tone soft and vulnerable.

“They weren’t you,” you repeated simply in a quiet tone, as if you were saying something completely obvious, “I… fuck, I don’t know, Max. Every time I go on a date, I think about all the stupid shit we’d be saying instead. I think about how much of a dumbass you’d be just to get me to smile or laugh. I think about _you_. Not the person I’m sitting across from. I kept trying to tell myself that it was just because you’re my best friend, but I can’t keep lying to myse-”

Your words were cut off by Max crashing his lips back onto yours. His words were choking him, and he thought for a brief moment that if he breathed like a living person, he’d be suffocating under the weight of them. So instead of telling you that he felt the same, that he’d _always_ felt the same, he settled for showing you. Max stood from the couch, lifting you with him as you wrapped your legs around his waist and let him carry you to your bedroom before depositing you onto your bed.

“Strip,” he said roughly, “Cause if you have me do it, I can’t promise your clothes will be intact by the time I’m done.”

You huffed out a laugh, quirking a lopsided smile at him as you removed your shirt, Max quickly following suit.

“What’s the matter, can’t control yourself?” you teased as he shot you a warning glare.

“How have I never realized how much of an asshole you are?” he asked.

“Because you were too busy being an even bigger one?”

Alright, you had him there.

Both of you continued to remove your clothes, Max fumbling with his belt as you raised your hips to remove the last of your clothes from your lower half. When he was finished disrobing himself, he climbed onto the mattress, crawling his way up to you before lowering himself to place a searing kiss on your lips. This kiss was far shorter than the ones you’d shared on the couch, your naked body far too distracting and enticing for him to continue for too long before he began to kiss and nip his way down your body. First, he scraped his teeth along your neck, grinning as he felt you shudder against him. Perhaps another time he’d ask if you’d let him feed from you.

Max continued his descent, never spending too long on any one area. He knew exactly where he was going, and he had little patience to draw things out until then. As he reached the apex of your thighs and came face to face with the most intimate parts of you, his patience dwindled even further.

Max had wanted to take his time. Really, he had. But as soon as your scent had hit his nose and your taste had hit his tongue, he knew better than to expect patience from himself. The first gentle swipe of his tongue along you had made him moan like a wounded man, and he’d all but buried his face into you to chase after it.

His own pleasured sounds were nothing compared to yours, the way they rang in his ears only serving to heighten his own sense of urgency. He laved his tongue against you, never pulling away from you for too long before returning. Max alternated between dipping his tongue into you and using his fingers to stretch you, knowing he’d have only a minuscule amount of self-control to keep himself still once he’d fully sunk into you.

He continued his ministrations until you were a writhing mess beneath him, begging him not to stop and to let you cum. In other circumstances, he may have teased you, pulling away at the last moment over and over until you were pleading with him to allow you your release. But that was an idea for another time, one when he was more clear-headed instead of completely hazy in the bliss of realizing that you wanted him just as he wanted you.

Your breath hitched, and Max could all but hear the blood rushing in your veins as you gripped onto his hair and tugged, ripping a moan from his chest as you did so. He doubled down on his efforts, wincing as he felt you come on his tongue from the sheer levels of stimulation that you were giving him. Every single one of his already heightened senses were eclipsed by you as he drew out your orgasm, basking in your cries of pleasure as you plateaued and then came down.

Once you went lax again, he took a few more tastes of you before crawling his way up your body to your lips, slotting his own against them as he rutted his hardened cock against your thigh, waiting for your high to come down before he requested your permission to proceed.

“You can…” you breathed, “you can keep going. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Max asked, “I mean, after all, you _did_ just-”

“You make me ask again and I’m getting up and leaving,” you quipped, your lopsided smile erasing any hint of malice he thought he’d heard.

Well. No sense in keeping his lover waiting.

Max lined himself up to your entrance, snagging the blunt head of his cock against you before pushing into you at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your brow furrowed, your mouth opened slightly, and Max’s world stopped as he bottomed out inside of you.

You were fucking immaculate. Everything he wanted, everything he needed. Sure, you absolutely infuriated him sometimes, and he was sure he did the same to you, but you were everything to him. Why had it taken him so fucking long to realize that?

“Move,” you said softly, startling him out of his reverie, “please, Max.”

Max nodded, pulling from you slowly until he was nearly out of you before pushing back into you. His pace wasn’t rushed, wasn’t hurried, wasn’t messy. At least, not yet. No, first he wanted to take his time and savor the sensations you were giving him. But that line of thinking didn’t last long, not when he was this deep inside of you. All thoughts of any coherence went straight out the window as soon as he felt your arms wrap themselves around his neck and pull his lips to yours.

Blinded by the feeling of your lips on his and your body around his length, Max’s hips thrust into you of their own accord, picking up their pace until they were pistoning into you at a brutal rate. The sounds of skin on skin nearly drowned out the pleasured groans and cries bubbling up from the two of you, and it wasn’t long until you were telling Max how close you were to yet another orgasm, begging him not to stop.

As if he had any intention of stopping now.

Max felt your walls flutter around him as you cried his name, and he continued thrusting his hips into you to help you ride out your pleasure. You held your breath as you crested, whining softly before releasing it in a sharp huff once your plateau had passed. He continued to piston into you, chasing his own high with reckless abandon as he held you close.

He would never be able to tell you how long it was between your orgasm and his, but when Max finally fell into his bliss, he gave you a few hard thrusts before stilling his hips, as if attempting to push himself into you as deeply as possible. He heard you breathe his name against his lips, felt you kiss his cheek as he bowed his head next to yours to ride out his climax. Once he had come down, Max rolled himself off of you, resting beside you and blinking himself back to reality for a moment.

“That was-”

“I know,” Max finished for you as you both lay next to each other, breathless. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, the heat slowly dissipating from the room before he chuckled lightly and spoke again.

“You know, if you really wanted me that bad, all you had to do was ask, _darling._ ”

“Max-”

“Yes, yes, the laws of the land and the slaughtering, I get it, I get it,” Max laughed, “Please, you couldn’t kill me even if you wanted to.”

“Max, you’re a vampire, not a god,” you responded with a roll of your eyes.

“You sure about that?” Max asked, a smug grin donning his features, “Cause I’d definitely say otherwise considering the way you were screaming my name-”

His words were cut off by an errant pillow as you smacked it across his head, resulting in a bark of laughter pealing from his chest.

“You shut up, I was _not_ screaming,” you countered your good-natured smile betraying your following sentence, “I hate you, y’know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, sure,” Max laughed, tossing the pillow away before leaning in to kiss your lips again as you laughed with him, “Whatever you say, my dear.”

It wasn’t lost on Max how you didn’t threaten him when he used _that_ name.


End file.
